The list of words that those who knew Frank Hannigan might use to ex- plain him was a lengthy one: smart, tough, funny, irreverent, liberal,
angry, insightful, contrarian—to name a few.

There was one word that never came up:
cheerful.

If someone had described Hannigan that
way he would have screamed in pain.

Hannigan died March 22 at age 82. He was
executive director of the USGA from 1983
to 1989 and was directly responsible for the
USGA’s decision to return the U.S. Open to
Shinnecock Hills. In doing so, he changed
the way the organization put on the Open forever.

Hannigan went to work for ABC as a rules expert after heretired from the USGA and also wrote frequently about golffor numerous publications—including this one. Having start-ed his career as a journalist at the Staten Island Advance,he was most proud of his writing, which often took on issuesothers hadn’t even thought about. “You must read my latest,”he’d write to friends. “It’s brilliant, if I do say so myself.”He was justifiably proud of the 1974 story he wrote for theUSGA’s Golf Journal on A. W. Tillinghast, which remindedpeople of Tillinghast’s brilliance. Hannigan’s opinions oncourse design, like all his opinions, were absolute.

In 1994, when the USGA gave Arnold Palmer an exemption
into that year’s Open at Oakmont, wanting Palmer to play in
the event one last time on the course where he had lost a playoff
to Jack Nicklaus in 1962, Hannigan was outraged. Palmer
was 64 and had no chance to compete and thus, according to
Hannigan, didn’t belong in the field.

Palmer’s final walk up 18 on Friday was one of the Open’s
more memorable moments. Palmer wept. Fans around the
green wept. Palmer wept again in the interview room and left
to a standing ovation from the media—which isn’t supposed
to cheer for anyone. Hannigan stood in the back of the room,
stone-faced.

His true loves were his family and basketball. Even though hefirst went to work for the USGA in 1961 and spent the rest of hislife deeply involved in golf, his greatest passion was basketball—specifically the NBA. He was extremely proud of the fact thatone of his daughters-in-law worked for a law firm that repre-sented Michael Jordan.The most important thing Hannigan did was bring the Opento Shinnecock in 1986 for the first time in 90 years. The issuehad never been the quality of the course but the logistics. TheOpen had always been an event run inside the ropes by theUSGA, outside the ropes by the host club. Shinnecock, being aseasonal club, didn’t have the infrastructure to play that role.“Fine,” Hannigan said. “We’ll do it ourselves.”Which they did, leading to the expansion of the Openinto the super-sized event it is today—something Hanniganalways lamented. Even so, the presence of that kind of staffallowed David B. Fay—who Hannigan anointed as his succes-sor in 1989—to put together the success story that becamethe Open at Bethpage Black in 2002.

In his later years, even in bad health, Hannigan often be-moaned the fact that part-time USGA presidents, who spendtwo years on the job, have the final say in decision-making,meaning the executive director has to report to the president.In one of the last emails I got from him, Hannigan wrote:“I’m glad the Davis kid [which is what he always called USGAexecutive director Mike Davis] won the battle with [then-USGA president Glen] Nager. Rare that the good guys winone in golf these days.”No one had a keener sense of what was good—and impor-tant—than Hannigan. Perhaps that’s because he was both. NBY JOHN FEINSTEIN VOICES